


Down for the Count

by chanderson



Series: You Complete Me [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, One Shot, Sickfic, Whamilton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanderson/pseuds/chanderson
Summary: In which George is sick and Alex worries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first Hamilton fic (and my first fic ever) so I'd love some comments! George is a lawyer and Alex is in law school. George is 34 and Alex is 24. This isn't beta'd so if there are any mistakes it's on me. Hope you enjoy!

Alex is sitting in a trendy, independent coffee shop teeming with twenty-somethings all dressed in purposefully shabby flannel with pubey beards hanging down to their necklines. His latte sits steaming in front of him, and he halfheartedly blows on it every few seconds to try and cool it down.

He tries his best to ignore the whiney girl sitting behind him complaining about some guy named Horatio and stares down at the legal brief in front of him. He’s honestly trying to read it, but his eyes keeping glazing over and the words blur into tiny black lines that dance across the paper. He grinds his hands into his eyes and checks the time on his phone. George was supposed to meet him half an hour ago. He usually gets finished at his law office at 5, and Alex knows George doesn’t have a major trial or anything coming up, so he should’ve been here by now.

_Hey I’m here at the super gentrified coffee shop that John recommended for some reason. You still coming? It’s cool if you got held up at work._

Alex doesn’t particularly care if George has to cancel; it’s happened before. With his law school class load and George’s job, it can be hard to line up times when they can actually go out for real dates. Usually they just end up eating dinner at George’s place, both of them too tired to go out. But it was Friday and a beautiful day—the kind of fall weather right before it gets too cold—so they’d decided to go out.

More time passes and Alex finally just puts the brief away after trying, and failing, to read a paragraph for the fourth time. He finishes up his coffee and checks his phone. Nothing from George. Alex doesn’t mind cancellation, but this feels a bit like being stood up, which is totally not George’s style. He’s usually so thoughtful and caring that it makes Alex feel inadequate in comparison.

Maybe George’s cellphone is dead? Alex is contemplating calling his office just to see if he’s still at work when his phone vibrates on the table. He grabs it and relaxes at the sight of George’s name.

_Shit I’m sorry Alex. I fell asleep and didn’t hear my phone. I meant to text you earlier but I forgot. I’m not feeling very well.. I took a day off from work and everything. How about a raincheck?_

Instead of texting back, Alex starts to pack his stuff up and calls George on his way out the door.

“Hey,” George says when he answers. He sounds exhausted.

“Hi. I’m coming over.” Alex is already walking to George’s place; it’s only five blocks away. “I’m pretty close to you, so I’ll be there in a little bit. Maybe 20 minutes.”

“No, Alex, don’t come over. I’m gross and sick.”

“I’ve seen gross and sick before. I don’t care. I’ll come keep you company.”

“I don’t want you to get sick. You can’t miss school.”

“I get sick literally all the time. It won’t even matter, and I’m already super ahead on my work, so if I miss a few days it won’t kill me.” Alex hoists his heavy backpack higher on his shoulders and side-steps a tourist stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Alex,” George sighs, already resigned to the fact that Alex is definitely not taking no for an answer. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You sure will.” Alex grins even though George can’t see it. “Be there in a bit. Love you.”

“Love you too,” George says before ending the call.

Alex ducks into the Duane Reade on the corner near George’s place and grabs some supplies: yellow Gatorade, ginger ale, crackers, tissues, cough drops—the usual.

He manages to juggle everything, shoving the smaller items into his backpack, and uses the key George gave him to head on up.

The apartment is freezing when Alex walks in and goosebumps immediately flare up across his arms and he shivers involuntarily. He busies himself with putting the Gatorade in the fridge and sets the ginger ale and crackers on the kitchen counter. He drops his bag unceremoniously on the floor by the couch.

“George?” he calls out as he rummages through George’s medicine cabinet, finally finding the thermometer in the back. George doesn’t answer, so Alex assumes he must be asleep.

Then he hears the sound of vomiting followed by a distressed moan. Alex winces and heads toward the bathroom, taking in the sight of George’s usually clean bedroom as he passes through. He has clothes strewn all over the floor, a small trash can is on the bed, and tissues and medicine bottles litter the bedside table.

The door to the bathroom is cracked, but Alex knocks anyway, not wanting to invade George’s privacy. “Hey Wash,” Alex says softly. “Can I come in?” George doesn’t answer per-say, just makes a groaning sound that Alex interprets as a yes.

George is slumped over in front of the toilet, his forehead resting on the seat. His legs are tucked underneath him, and he has his arms wrapped around his stomach. Alex crouches down next to him and runs his hand down George’s back, feeling the places where the fabric of his t-shirt has grown damp with sweat.

“Sorry,” George slurs tiredly. His whole body is trembling and the heat radiating off of his body is enough to make Alex feel a little flushed just being this close to him.

“It’s okay baby. Don’t apologize.” Alex reaches up and flushes the toilet. “I’m gonna go get a washcloth for your neck. Alex’s knees crack as he gets up and grabs a washcloth from underneath George’s sink. He runs it under cold water and wrings it out before sitting next to George and draping it over his neck. “There you go. That might make you feel a little better.”

George nods and then tenses up as he seems to be hit with a surge of nausea. He moans, and Alex rubs his back as he gets sick. When George is finished, he slumps back down and groans. Alex flushes the toilet and kisses his shoulder, tasting the salty sweat George is currently drenched in.

“This is disgusting. You don’t have to do this.” Alex shrugs and hands George a wad of toilet paper.

“Here, wipe your mouth off. And I really don’t mind. I’d rather be here with you than have you taking care of this yourself.”

George sighs and cleans his mouth off. Alex reaches over and cups his cheek, rubbing his thumb along George’s clammy skin. “You ready to go to bed? Or you wanna stay here?”

“Bed sounds nice.” Alex smiles and helps George up. They walk slowly to George’s bed and he burrows down in the blankets once he gets in, shivering.

“Here, I need to take your temperature.” Alex hands George the thermometer. “Wait until it beeps. I’ll be back.” Alex goes into the kitchen and gets George a cup of water and twists the cap off of one of the ginger ales. It’s not quite flat yet, so Alex shakes it, pours it into a glass, and takes both cups back to George’s room. “I’ve got water and flat ginger ale. Drink as much as you can.”

“Thanks. The thermometer said 102.”

“Yikes. That doesn’t sound good.” Alex grabs the Advil sitting on George’s bedside table. “Here, take some more of this.” He hands George two of them. “Make sure you take it with that water. It’s not good to take pills dry when you’re nauseous.” George nods and shakily takes a couple of small sips of water, swallowing the pills down with it.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll be okay. This is probably so annoying for you.” George shivers again and curls up into the fetal position. Alex rolls his eyes.

“You are so fucking insufferable. I’m not leaving.” Alex toes his shoes off and climbs into the bed next to George. He wraps his arms around him and rests a hand on George’s stomach, feeling it gurgling against his palm. “Don’t forget to drink that water and ginger ale. The ginger ale should maybe settle your stomach; although apparently the effects of ginger ale on an upset stomach are debated, but whatever.”

“I don’t think I could drink anything else right now.”

“That’s fine honey.” Alex kisses the back of George’s neck. “I don’t wanna make you sick, but you’ll have to drink something eventually. Maybe we can try some ice chips later. That might be easier.” George tenses up and lets out a shaky breath.

“Nothing right now, okay?” Alex nods and nestles his face into the crook of George’s neck.

“Okay. We’ll just rest. I could use a nap anyway.” Alex eyelids are already starting to grow heavy and the steady pulse in George’s neck against Alex’s ear is a soothing, steady presence. Alex lets his eyes slip closed, and he falls asleep listening to George’s quiet breathing.

\---

Alex wakes up to the blankets completely kicked off of himself and the uncomfortable feeling of getting too hot in his sleep, probably from sleeping so close to George. He’s alone in the bed, but the sheets are still warm and damp with George’s sweat.

“Wash?” Alex gets up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes, fighting the disgusting, post-nap slump currently weighing him down. “You okay?” Alex sticks his head into the bathroom to see if George is getting sick again, but it’s empty.

He finds George curled up on the couch, the small trashcan sitting on the ground near his head. “Hey,” Alex says softly. “How’re you feeling?” He plops down next to George and nudges his head into his lap.

“Awful, but I couldn’t sleep.” Guilt coils in Alex’s stomach and he winces.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You should’ve gotten me up. Did you get sick again?” George gives Alex a tiny nod and closes his eyes, sighing.

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so tired. I was fine. I’m a grown man, you know. I’ve been sick before.”

“Hey, maybe I like playing nursemaid.” Alex waggles his eyebrows and grins. “You know, that could actually be kinda hot. Maybe I’ll get one of those nurse costumes. I could punish you for being a bad patient.”

“You don’t have to deflect my comments with humor, Alex,” George says tiredly. Alex sighs and shifts uncomfortably. He picks at the fabric of George’s shirt, trying to stop his nervous fidgeting.

“I just didn’t want you to be alone, okay?” he says defensively. “I’ve been alone most of my life and being sick alone was always scary. I guess I was worried that I’d get as sick as I did when my mom died, but no one would be there to help me.” Alex looks away, focusing on the news program playing quietly on the TV.

“Alex,” George sighs. Alex swallows past the lump in his throat.

“I don’t want you getting hurt. Your fever could get worse and you’d be here all alone. What if you couldn’t get to your phone? You could die. I’d come over and find you dead. How fucked up is that? I couldn’t do that again. I know you can take care of yourself; puking isn’t exactly hard, but you could really get hur—”

“Alex,” George says sternly, cutting him off. “Shut up for two seconds.” Alex blushes and smiles sheepishly, finally looking down at George. His eyes are soft, bright against his sallow complexion. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you care that much.” George lays his hand over the one Alex has resting on his chest. “It’s just hard for me to accept help from other people sometimes. When my brother got sick, I felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do for him. I could prolong the inevitable and try to make him as comfortable as possible, but it felt like everything was completely out of control. After he died, I vowed to myself that I would never feel that way again. I had to take care of myself and take control of my life. I wanted to be self sufficient.” George closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says softly, eyes burning with tears. It’s embarrassing how easily he cries. George shrugs, his eyes still closed.

“It happened a long time ago. I try not to think about it too often.”

“I’ll go if you want to be alone. I have a legal brief I need to be reading anyway.” Alex starts to get up, gently moving George’s head out of his lap, but George shakes his head.

“No you can stay.” He pauses briefly. “I want you to stay, okay?” Alex nods and smiles when George stretches out on the couch. “Come lay with me,” he says softly.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Alex quips as he carefully climbs onto the couch and wedges himself in-between the couch cushions and George’s warm body. He wraps his arms around George waist and nuzzles his shoulder. “I love you George.”

“I love you too Alexander.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'd appreciate any comments you have since this is my first fic!


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